Ice Rider
by Song Leader
Summary: This is my first fanfic, so please review! The main story is the boy finds an egg, it hatches, i really don't want to give stuff away!
1. Chapter 1

Author's note

OK. This is my first Eragon fanfic, so it might be a bit rusty. I am greatly flattered that you've decided to read this, and if you like it… pass it on to other dragon lovers! Thanks

Ziahra Shur'tugal

As the young boy silently trudged up the sandstone formation, the pain finally caught up with him. Fire seemed to engulf his legs, and lightning zapped through his veins. Looking back across the landscape, still simmering with flames, a lone tear fell down his face; the only tear that would fall down his face. Unwillingly, he turned his eyes away from the only world he knew, and continued climbing.

His memory had escaped him, leaving only scenes of what he now understood was his home, racing through his mind. The flying things, black cloaks, emerald light. It all was jumbled in a cage of emotion.

As the shadows of night waned, and the warmth of the sun waxed, he reached the top of the formation. At last, he was safe. Cautiously, he examined his surroundings and unwrapped the bundle in his shirt. A solid white stone, about the size of his head, tumbled onto the sandstone with a sharp ring, like the cathedral bell. He studied it closely, trying to remember where it came from.

Then, he remembered his father's words. "Take it, my son. Flee to the east! You must never let them have it… never!" Intending to keep his father's will, he carefully set it into a shallow crater.

Before curling up to sleep, he gazed at his surroundings. As far as the eye could see, was nothing but grass. He had walked for a solid day, careful to avoid any form of live, hoping to survive.

He walked to the other side of the formation, eager to see more than a sea of green and yellow. He got his wish. Standing erect, directly in front of him, was a cascade of pillars and spires, twirling and dancing towards the sky. The boy reached forward to touch its clear, glassy surface. As his fingers grazed against the structure, it rippled like water. He followed the solid wave downward until his eyes met the face of a man, old and stony.

Etched into the spirals, directly in front of the man's dead face, was a single word. "Brom."

The lad felt a surge of power and mysterious energy flow through his mind. The man's eyes snapped open, and his dry, frozen lips uttered, barely above a whisper, these words. "Shur'tugal… has once again… returned…"

With that, the boy stumbled back to his stone, dumbfounded, and collapsed, unaware of the voice in the distance.

Please review! And be honest. I hope to hear from you soon!

Ziahra Shur'tugal


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note

To clarify things a bit, Brom was supposed to talk. Don't forget the world of Alagaesia is filled with magic, just a quick note. Thanks!

Ziahra Shur'tugal (a.k.a. The Muzikmagician)

Blurred visions swirled and stumbled in his subconscious. A blinding white light… then total darkness. Images of bodies, human by their appearance, were piled high before the dark gates, its dark spires stretching to the clouds. He could hear screaming, unearthly and full of horror. A low rumble filled his ear, drowning out the cries. Unable to identify its origin, the boy stumbled around crowed streets that were familiar, but foreign.

The rumble intensified, and fear engulfed his thoughts.

"Where is it? What is it? Stop it!"

The noise, for reasons unknown to him, put the boy to the brink of hysteria. The noise grew… and grew… and grew… and grew.

Suddenly, the young boy shot up, awakening from the horrible dream.

He was puzzled. Instead of awaking at the sandstone hills, he was in a moist room with dark, stained glass windows, all twelve of the showing a separate picture.

On the first, a tall man with blazing red hair and eyes was contorted in pain as a fierce, burning blade protruded from his breast. His lips were opened in a silent howl. The other windows had similar scenes of falling villains, swords clashing, and shields colliding. All were made with explicit detail, true masterpieces. But one caught the boy's eye.

The mood was different. The window had softer colors; blues, greens, and purples. There was a man and a woman, but the lady had pointed ears. They were standing in front of a giant city. The soil was dark black, as if made of stone. Then he noticed a large, red rose hanging in front of the city, twice as marvelous as civilization below. 'How can anything hang from the sky?' he silently pondered. Then he realized the background was black as well. They were inside a mountain. Dumfounded, the boy continued to study the window. Behind the man and woman, was a large blue animal. It had fangs that were unbelievably huge, and large, titanic wings. The animal fascinated him, and he wondered if such creatures actually existed. He had never ventured outside of the camp he had lived in, about two leagues west of Helgrind.

As he turned his gaze away from the windows, he thought the picture moved. Ever so slightly, the couple had moved together, and the animal had lowered its head. Discrediting himself, he continued to explore the small room. There were vials full of sparkling, fizzing liquids of all colors, bags full of strange pieces of wood and strings, and a quite convincing document that toads did not exist. A long thin stick was lying on the floor. The boy picked up the stick, and a wave of electricity shot through his muscles. A laugh filled the room as the boy violently twitched from the shock.

"I would put that down," the voice said. "It'll shock you again in about ten seconds if you don't."

Instantly dropping the stick, the boy turned around to see a young man, about 20 from the looks of him, standing in the doorway. He had wild, shoulder length, black hair, and dark green eyes. His dark complexion made it seem like he never went indoors. He wore a tattered shirt and frayed shorts that stopped about four inches above the knee. Over all, he was quite well built. He was muscular, but more tall and lean. When he smiled, his teeth were slightly pointed.

"Who are you!" the boy bellowed. "And where am I!"

"All will be explained," the man said. "But to ease your mind, you are in Teirm."

The boy gasped. 'Teirm! I really am far away from home.' Just then, the boy remembered the glass tomb, and the old man that said something. His stone!

He started frantically searching high and low as the man silently watched. "Is this what you are looking for?" He pulled the stone from behind his back and a sigh escaped from the boy's lips. "I thought so. But, before I give it to you, what is your name?"

The boy gulped as he dug through his memory in search of his name. All things from the night before until he reached the sandstone were clouded. He finally remembered his mother, or at least he thought it was his mother, singing him to sleep, then whispering his name. The man put down the stone as the boy recited his name. "Ziahra."

The man's eyes grew wide, as if he had seen a ghost. He glanced over to the window with the animal, and the stone cracked.

Author's Note

You should know who is in the first and last windows that I described. The second one isn't in the books, but it is obvious. And five guesses on what the man's name is, and what building in Teirm they are in. More will be explained in chapter 3. REVIEW PLEASE!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note

Just to clarify things a bit, this takes place a long, long, LONG time after Eragon. He's not in Alagaesia anymore, like Angela said. And another thing. Magical creatures age slower than regular humans do. Do you know who the man is now?

A cold wind shrieked through the small room as the white stone continued to crack. The tall man's cat-like eyes slanted and gazed cautiously at the painted window and at Ziahra. Finally, with one great snap, the stone shattered.

In its place, was a lizard-like creature in Ziahra's eyes. The animal was solid white, from head to tail. Two wings, which seemed way to big for a creature of that size, folded out from its body. Two razor sharp fangs, like a wolf's, protruded from its upper jaw. Two smaller teeth jutted out from the lower one. The animal seemed vaguely familiar to Ziahra. Then, he turned to face the window.

The giant blue animal in the picture looked strikingly similar to the lizard thing in front of him.

The lizard squeaked, and gained Ziahra's attention. "Go on," the man said, nodding his head towards the animal. "Touch it."

Ziahra reached down a trembling hand, and placed his palm down on the beast's head.

Instantly, a blast of pain erupted through his arm, and into his body. He shivered with cold, and again collapsed. He felt as if he had lain there for hours. Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

When Ziahra opened his eyes, the animal was nestled against him, spreading warmth through his veins.

"Peculiar…" the man whispered. "I thought that the dragons left with Eragon and the elves. Apparently not all of them."

At this, the 13 year old's eyes grew wide. The animal before him, and the picture, were dragons. He looked down to study the dragon more closely. A larger than life for a creature that small dip was directly between its shoulders. It had a muscular, sleek body; free from any spikes or rivets. The dragon's tail was long and thin, and was coiling around Ziahra's body, as if hugging him. On the beast's head, about an inch above the eyes, were two small horns. Cool air slowly blew out from their hollow interiors, like an icy volcano. In front of the horns, were two long whiskers, but seemingly made from the same materials as the scales on its body. Two small lumps were positioned on opposite sides of the head, which presumably served as ears. The dragon had huge feet, with long retractable claws. The front legs were short and slender, but still used to occasionally walk around on, while the back legs were thick and powerful. The dragon hopped around then crawled, hopped then crawled, as Ziahra and the man observed.

"Excuse me," Ziahra said after a while. "Did you say that this was a dragon?"

The man's eyes gleamed. "Yes. And coincidentally, your name is the Ancient Language word for 'ice'." A cold wind again blew through the room. "It seems that once again, the riders have returned."

Ziahra had heard stories of how the riders and their dragons were once the most powerful beings in Alagaesia. They overthrew the evil king after his terrible rein, stopped the Elvish-Dragon Wars, and then left over the ocean.

"I remember the last boy who started a new generation of riders. In fact, I was at his wedding." The man looked over at the window again. A tear sailed down his cheek. "I miss him terribly, and the others that left with him… Ah, but now I have a bigger problem to crack, how to train the new rider."

"M-m-me? A rider?" Ziahra stammered. Again the man gave a mischievous smile. "But how can I be a rider? I'm only 13! A mere peasant boy! What do you expect me to do?"

"Only to trust me." The man walked towards the boy, but Ziahra stepped back. "How can I trust you, if I don't even know your name?"

The man sighed. "I have many names… but you can call me-"

But he was cut off by the neglected dragon's sharp squeal. The dragon jumped into Ziahra's arms as the roof was torn off of the building with a thunderous roar.

Author's Note

Did you like this one? REVIEW! Yall still have to guess who the man is. And who is in the picture. REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note

Thanks a lot to city pigeon and Vulpix4life for all of their great reviews. I hope that everyone else will start reviewing to. Oh yeah. If you got a story that you want me to review or just read, let me know.

"Hurry! This way!" With inhumane speed, the man bolted out of the shop. A tattered sign above the window read 'Angela's Herb Shop.'

Where the roof was, cloud of smoke and dust remained. A long, flaming red tail snapped out of the cloud. The shape of a serpent was faintly visible through the dust.

As the man led Ziahra to the gates of the city, archers bounded onto the ancient, stone roofs. A huge citadel loomed in the middle of the city. The early morning sun barely reached its peak. The gates in front of them were rapidly closing. The man bellowed for the guards to open them, but to his displeasure, they did not obey.

Disgruntled, the man raised his hand and cried, "Jierda!" The gates momentarily stopped then shattered like glass on a stone floor. The two of them raced out of the city and quickly dove behind the nearest bolder. The dragon had crawled out of sight beneath Ziahra's shirt.

The man breathlessly watched the town gates for any sign of soldiers. After what seemed like hours of waiting, he shot up and sprinted to a nearby mound of stone.

The stones were farther away and much larger than Ziahra suspected. They had several small crevices and ledges that made it easy to climb. Ziahra noticed that halfway up, if he would've started in any other direction, he would've been stuck. If quickly stumbled up the rocks, and plopped down at the top.

A steady stream of curses silently forced their way out of the man's clenched teeth. "For sure they have just arrived… nothing like that could have been kept a secret for that long. Unless forces I do not know of have risen."

"As horrible as that might be," Ziahra interrupted, "I still don't know who you are and now, what on Earth just happened."

The man glared at him, then solemnly stated, "My name is Solombum."

"Good to know."

"I wouldn't speak at the moment. Teenagers… a disaster waiting to happen."

Glad to finally know the identity of this strange man, Ziahra settled down at on the edge of the rocks. His dragon hopped up to him, like a bird, and gently rubbed his back. After a few short seconds, it leapt onto Ziahra's back. He was surprised at how light it was, being the size of a small dog. Its dark blue, glassy eyes were fixed on his face.

'Is it a boy or girl?' he quietly thought to himself. An alien presence filled his mind.

Boy… 

_Was that you?_ He stared at his little companion. It nodded its head in recognition.

"Then I will name you… um… Solombum?"

He grunted in returned.

"Do you know a good name for this dragon? It's a boy."

Solombum stared at Ziahra. "How do you know that?"

"He told me."

Solombum's eyes grew wide with curiosity. "And so young…"

For a short while, Solombum gazed at Ziahra. "Name him Areaba."

The dragon squealed with approval.

"Then Areaba it is." Ziahra smiled at Areaba, as he hopped around, bubbling with joy.

Author's Note

This chapter might have been a bit boring, but I needed to write it. I'm sure that everyone has heard of Doru Areaba. I named him that for a reason. Keep those reviews comin!


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